Family Gathering (2)
From early morning, the Bukchangdong Mansion was in utter chaos. It was Lunar New Year's Day, and every member of the Hansung family had gathered at the estate.
"Long time no see, brother?"
"Yeah. How've you been, Suhyeok?"
Han Umin, the vice chairman of Hansung Group and the eldest son, flashed a leisurely smile as he lightly patted his younger brother's shoulder. Han Suhyeok chuckled.
"You haven't changed a bit over the years, brother. Can't you do something about that arrogant face? You're looking down on people too much."
"That's how it is for people like us at the top—we naturally look down on those below. If it seems arrogant to you, maybe it's because you're still down there."
"Hahaha! You always have the wittiest comebacks, brother. Even in our group, where eldest-son succession is the rule, don't aim too high all the time. Sometimes you need to look down below too."
"...I'll keep that in mind."
The two stood outside the mansion for a moment, breathing in the chilly New Year's morning air.
"Dear, come on inside. Father might say something if we stay out here."
"R-right? Let's go in then."
At the mention of "Father," Han Umin's eyes widened like a startled frog. The founding chairman of Hansung Group and the absolute patriarch of the family—the mere name of Han Seongcheol, known as the tiger of the business world, was enough to shrink the vice chairman into a childlike state in an instant.
"Heh! Brother's soft spot for the old man hasn't changed a bit."
The Han Umin who feared nothing in the world, scurrying inside with his family in tow. It was proof of just how untouchable Han Seongcheol's authority was in this Bukchangdong Mansion.
"By the way, you think it'll be okay?"
"Why?"
At his wife's question, Han Suhyeok thought of the mansion's little troublemaker.
"There's someone here even scarier than Father."
"Pardon? Scarier than Father?"
"Yeah. Looks like a kid on the outside, but acts like a crafty old fox. You hear the rumor? She pranked Chairman Jeong Munju of Hyundai."
"Ah! That kid—the daughter of the youngest son, Han Seoyeon?"
"Yeah. Whatever you do, don't get on her bad side. You know what they say: not everything is as it seems. That's the vibe I got."
"Got it. I'll be careful."
"Yeah. Let's just get through this smoothly without any hiccups."
The two whispered secretly as they gazed up at the palace-like mansion. The moment they stepped inside, it felt like an oppressive aura would crush them, tolerating not a single mistake.
"Whew, let's head in!"
*
Word of their imminent arrival made the servants bustle even more frantically. Hot steam rose endlessly from the kitchen. The beef bone broth had simmered to a milky white, and on one side, the sizzle of oil filled the air as pancakes fried.
Trays overflowed with golden-brown pollock pancakes and mung bean pancakes.
"Ah, little miss... "
The nanny wore a troubled expression.
"Hehe~ nom nom."
"P-please stop eating. You'll get fat."
"It's fine. New Year's is a special day made for packing on at least 5kg, right?"
"S-still..."
Food in a chaebol household during the holidays was something else. Each dish used top-grade ingredients, especially the pollock pancakes made from the plumpest, premium dried pollock. One bite melted softly, filling the mouth with savory oiliness.
Mmm, soooo good~
As my face threatened to melt like jelly, my parents—dressed in hanbok—watched me.
"Seoyeon, what if you can't eat dinner later?"
Even Mom, saying that, popped a pollock pancake into her mouth and casually picked up another.
Dad sighed deeply at the sight of his wife and daughter engrossed in the pancakes.
"...My brothers will be here soon, so let's get ready."
"Okaay~"
Ding-dong! Speak of the devil. The doorbell rang at the mansion's entrance, and the grand gate swung open. A group of unfamiliar middle-aged people strode in confidently. I recognized the leader as Grandpa's eldest son and Hansung Group's vice chairman, Han Umin. He had a commanding presence, his face brimming with ambition. Behind him, the third son I'd seen before—Han Suhyeok, who would later absorb the entire domestic defense industry—gave me a subtle wave. I nodded slightly in return.
"Welcome."
"Thanks. How've you been, Director Woo?"
Woo Shijang, who hadn't taken the day off even for New Year's, greeted Grandpa's sons.
"Same as always, sir. The chairman is waiting on the second floor."
"Mm, always grateful. You wait here. I'll go see Father."
Han Umin headed straight upstairs without hesitation, followed by Han Suhyeok, the youngest son—my dad—and Woo Shijang. Led by the vice chairman, Hansung Group's real power players were filing into Grandpa's second-floor study one by one.
Heh~
The men headed to Grandpa's study, leaving the wives and kids naturally in the first-floor living room. Glances of mutual wariness were already flying thick and fast.
"Hey, you."
One woman pointed at me with her finger. Her tone wasn't familial—it was cold, like addressing a stranger. Park Jihyun, Han Umin's wife.
"You're Han Seoyeon, right?"
"Yes. Hello?"
"I see. I've heard the news. The only daughter in the Hansung family."
The reason she brought it up was obvious. She clearly wasn't pleased with my very existence. Interestingly, unlike Park Jihyun, Han Suhyeok's wife, Lee Suyeon, just stayed quiet, observing like a neutral third party. Mom silently watched from my side too. No one was quick to speak.
I looked like a six-year-old, but with my past-life memories, I could sense the subtle undercurrents. It was jealousy, or outright hostility toward me. They probably figured they'd bear daughters to monopolize Grandpa's attention, but a former singer like Mom had snatched it away—small wonder they were seething.
"Let the kids play among themselves. We need to finish preparing for the holidays. If Father sees us lounging here, it'll be trouble."
"Yes."
"Right."
Even chaebol daughters-in-law couldn't relax during New Year's. The three rolled up their sleeves and marched toward the bustling kitchen.
I turned to the two boys across from me—my cousins. The one who spoke first was Han Umin's son, Han Taejun, who'd just started middle school. He was the rumored poor student among the servants. In contrast, Han Suhyeok's son, Han Jihun, was surprisingly quiet, wearing thick horn-rimmed glasses and looking every bit the model student. Even at their young age, they exuded the arrogance of Hansung royalty, looking down on others. To me, though, it just seemed childish.
The Bukchangdong Mansion had a playroom for kids, and Han Taejun grumbled something as he headed there. But instead of toys, they pulled out workbooks from their bags. Typical of underachievers—skipping study at home but showboating in places like this.
I munched on the pollock pancake I'd brought, quietly watching my two cousins diligently solve problems. Then my eyes met those of the third son, Han Jihun.
"You not studying?"
"Studying?"
"Yeah. I heard Grandpa doesn't treat you like family if you don't study."
"......"
It was true, but not entirely. More precisely, he hated losing to Hyundai more than poor grades. Of course, these cousins had no clue about that premium intel.
"I'm fine."
"Hmph! What does she know? She's just a kindergarten brat."
The interrupter was the oldest here, Han Taejun. For someone tackling middle school problems, he acted like a drama queen that'd put a PhD to shame.
"Lucky if you can even add properly. Don't butt in and embarrass yourself—just sit quietly and watch."
Whoa! Exactly the personality the nanny described. No coincidence that Jeong Haewon from Hyundai came to mind. If he wanted to show off that badly, humoring him was only proper for a master like me. A sly smile slowly spread across my lips.
"Taejun oppa."
"What?"
He glanced up from his workbook, tilting his head irritably.
"Wanna bet with me? Um... We'll each put up a penalty."
"Penalty?"
"Yeeep~ It's no fun without stakes. Something simple."
"Hoo, you against me?"
"Yeeep~"
"You, of all people? Against me?"
"Yeeep~"
"Fine!"
The fish took the bait. Han Taejun snorted and shoved his chair back. Even crossing his legs screamed confidence.
"What kind of bet?"
"Well, hehe~"
Han Suhyeok, watching, adjusted his glasses and eyed me with keen interest.
"You know the game Twenty Questions?"
*
In the second-floor study of the Bukchangdong Mansion, Han Seongcheol frowned at his two sons before him. The family was finally together for New Year's after so long, yet he still disliked his eldest son's behavior.
"What? Withdraw from the ramen business? Do you even realize the nonsense you're spouting?"
"Father! Ramen has clear limits. How much can you make off something only the starving eat? Right now's the time to invest in shipbuilding and heavy chemicals. Europe’s already focusing on those two fields. To not fall behind, we need a long-term view—expand existing affiliates rather than new ones..."
"And that's how you've run shipbuilding?"
"Ah, Father!"
Hansung Group's shipbuilding was in such a slump it was called a recession. The large docks had long gone to Hyundai, and even the heavy chemicals side he'd trusted showed limits in tech and fund management due to sloppy operations. Han Umin, despite his vice chairman title, had consistently underperformed.
Meanwhile, only Hansung Food had turned profitable, sweeping domestic market share. Han Seongcheol's chest burned at his eldest son's ignorance in dismissing this ramen venture as pauper's fare.
Hadn't Jeong Munju of Hyundai once said it? The Hansung family would be nothing but empty suits without Han Seongcheol.
"Umin, what's the point of vice chairman if you can't manage even one affiliate properly? How long will you just whine about prospects? Do you even know Hansung Food's sales this year—the one you're so quick to dismiss?"
"Father! Even if that's true, ramen's just a fad. For Hansung Group to rely on food..."
That "food" market was already worth hundreds of billions. Not tens or hundreds—hundreds of billions. Han Seongcheol couldn't even predict how much it'd grow.
Yes. Seoyeon said something different.
Hansung's only daughter and granddaughter had told him this: Ramen couldn't be dismissed as mere food. Soon, it'd become a cornerstone of Korean culture.
"Heh heh heh..."
"Father!"
"What have you been thinking, sitting in that chair all day?!"
"Father!"
"Do you know how well Seongu's company is doing—the one you despise? Ramen for the starving? That ramen is what's keeping your precious shipbuilding afloat—do you even realize that?!"
Unable to contain his anger any longer, Han Seongcheol shot to his feet. His piercing gaze stabbed straight through Han Umin.
"Father!"
Han Umin's desperate cry echoed through the study at that moment.